


Served Warm

by amarielah



Series: Rodimus vs The Timeline [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Cunnilingus, Cybertronian Disaster Rodimus Prime, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Sex, Factional Cultural Differences, Gratuitous Movie Night, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Peggy Sue, Revenge, Revenge Sex, Self-Hatred, Sexual Inexperience, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unreliable Narrator, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 14:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19297201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarielah/pseuds/amarielah
Summary: In the grand scheme of mechs screwing Rodimus over, Swindle's betrayal had been a very minor footnote. But if the universe has seen fit to give Rodimus a second shot, why not indulge himself in a little payback?(Or: A Rodimus from the distant finale of Lost Light wakes up to find his consciousness inhabiting a version of himself from millennia in the past. He proceeds to make some very questionable decisions.)





	Served Warm

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this fic once before, but took it down because I felt like it needed further refinement. I'm much happier with this iteration.
> 
> Some timeline notes:
> 
> This takes place in The Transformers 2009 ongoing, which was the precursor to IDW Phase 2 (MtMtE, RiD, etc), during issues 4 and 5.
> 
> It's been a few years since the events of All Hail Megatron. After losing about a billion people to Megatron's invasion, the humans are not kindly disposed to any Cybertronians. So the remaining Autobots have been operating undercover, hunting down the remaining Decepticons and helping with the rebuilding efforts as best they can.
> 
> At this point in the story, Optimus has voluntarily submitted himself to the custody of the American military in an effort to improve relations between humans and the Autobots. Bumblebee has been 'elected' leader of Autobots in his place. And Hot Rod has gone off in a huff to find a way off of Earth, since the Autobots and Decepticons are both currently stranded there. The Decepticons because they lack a ship entirely, and the Autobots because Omega Supreme refuses to leave the planet without Optimus. 
> 
> The war is technically over, so Swindle convinces Hot Rod and a few other Autobots to join up with a bunch of Decepticons in order to build a starship. (From what I was able to see, Hot Rod's party is made up of Bluestreak (going by Silverstreak at this point in the timeline), Mirage, and Red Alert.)
> 
> Of course, Swindle betrays them in the end. And let's just say that future!Rodimus is carrying a lot of baggage...

The first thought that comes to his processor, when he realizes when and where he is, is payback.

He's not proud of it, exactly. But he's not ashamed enough to try and shift gears, either. A different bot might be more concerned with _how_ he'd suddenly woken up in the body of his past self. But honestly? Rodimus has seen way too much crazy slag to dwell on it much. He's not Brainstorm or Nautica; he knows he couldn't figure out the magic involved even if he were so inclined. Which he's not.

So yeah. Payback.

In the grand scheme of mechs screwing Rodimus over, Swindle's betrayal had been a very minor footnote. But if the universe has seen fit to give Rodimus a second shot, why not indulge himself a little?

The problem with getting payback on a mech like Swindle is figuring out something that'll stick. Besides death, that is. Rodimus doesn't actually want to kill the guy.

Violence, for example, would bring only temporary satisfaction. Swindle is used to violence. If anything, he probably sees it as the cost of doing business. There's also no way to guilt or shame him, since Rodimus is pretty sure that Swindle isn't actually capable of feeling those emotions.

There's this thing about Decepticons, though. A fascinating little insight that Rodimus had picked up on from all the Decepticons and ex-Decepticons he'd gotten to know during the centuries following the war. And that is that almost every single one of them is desperately, cripplingly lonely. Half of them don't even realize it, because they've gotten so used to feeling that way. Always on guard, terrified of displaying signs of weakness; always on the lookout for potential betrayal and sabotage. Never willing to voice their real feelings for fear of being sold out by a comrade to the D.J.D.

And Rodimus is pretty sure that Swindle falls squarely into the 'lonely, doesn't know it' camp.

Swindle may not be capable of feeling guilt, but Rodimus is confident that Swindle can feel _loss_. All he needs is something tangible for Swindle to lose as a result of being a faithless piece of slag.

This is what Rodimus has in mind when he approaches the conmech.

"I'd like for us to have a chat," says Rodimus. "Somewhere more private."

Swindle plasters on a big grin. "Sure thing, Rodimus."

They both transform and drive out further into the desert, stopping when they reach a sizeable rock formation. They return to root mode, and Rodimus is pleased to find that the rocks are large enough to give them some real privacy.

"So what's on your mind, kid?" Swindle asks.

"I never got the chance to thank you, is all," says Rodimus, stepping in closer. Swindle's friendly expression doesn't falter. Damn, he's good. Not as good as Getaway, but close. "The name you came up with? 'Rodimus'? It honestly changed my life. I know you said that the others thought it up, but - come on - it was totally all you."

There's a definite twinkle in Swindle's optics, now. Satisfaction at a mark who is being truly and thoroughly duped. "Well, what can I say? You caught me out. Though please don't think that I was exaggerating about how impressed the others are with you. They're just not as _creative_ as me, you know? A revolutionary deserves a name to match."

Rodimus steps closer still, deliberately softening his expression. "Words are cheap, though. I-" He bites his bottom lip, ducking his gaze. "Swindle, I wanna _show_ you how much it means to me."

He closes the rest of the distance between them, kissing Swindle full on the lips.

Another thing about Decepticons is that they tend to be prudes. Rodimus used to think it was just something peculiar to Drift, given his history in the Dead End and his later stint as part of the Circle of Light. But as their relationship had progressed from 'just friends' to 'friends with benefits', Drift had let slip some details about Decepticon culture. How fragging comes with a whole lot of baggage for them that just isn't there for Autobots. It's not like Autobots will frag strangers, of course. They're not _crazy_. But they're much more open to having trysts with friends.

So it doesn't surprise him when Swindle tenses up with the kiss. It's a bit of a thrill, actually, to finally have something sincere slip through Swindle's carefully-constructed persona. Rodimus pulls back, injecting concern into his voice. "Is this...okay?"

Swindle can't hide the look of shock that lingers on his face for a few nanokliks. He does master himself fairly quickly, though. Rodimus is almost impressed. "You just took me by surprise, kid," he says. "Figured you showed plenty of gratitude with how you stood up to Ultra Magnus."

Rodimus smiles at him. "I don't let my allies get arrested," he says. "But that's more about loyalty than gratitude." His smile turns suggestive. "I was thinking along the lines of making you overload."

"So I guess the rumors about Autobots are true," says Swindle, sounding a little dazed.

"If you mean that some of us like to have fun with our friends, then yeah." Rodimus presses his frame in closer, until he can feel Swindle's EM field tingling along his armor. "We _are_ friends now, aren't we?"

"Y-yeah. 'Course we are."

Rodimus kisses his way up Swindle's neck cables. "Then why don't you open up for me, sweetspark?" he asks, softly, right next Swindle's audio receptor.

Swindle isn't exactly known for his impulse control, so Rodimus isn't surprised when he hears the sound of Swindle's panel transforming away. He grins and leans in for another kiss, slipping his tongue into Swindle's mouth. Swindle kisses back clumsily, clearly inexperienced, letting out a helpless little moan. Rodimus' fans kick up in spite of himself, and he reaches down to cup Swindle's exposed valve, thumbing gently over the Decepticon's anterior node.

Swindle's legs give out. Rodimus' reflexes are good enough to catch him and ease him to the ground. He then positions himself between Swindle's legs.

"We're not-" Swindle's vocalizer resets with a burst of static. "I'm not down to actually _interface_ , if that's what you have in mind."

Rodimus runs his hands over Swindle's chestplate. "It's not," he says. Rodimus himself has only properly interfaced once. It had been an intense, disconcerting experience that he still isn't sure he actually enjoyed. So he definitely can't imagine doing it with somebody like Swindle. "You ever had anyone put their mouth on your valve?"

"Holy _slag_ ," says Swindle, which obviously means 'no'.

Rodimus grins, letting one hand drop so he can return to Swindle's throbbing node. He kisses Swindle again, trying to make it sensual rather than filthy. He doesn't just want to give Swindle an unforgettable frag; he wants to make Swindle feel like he's _special_. To give him just a taste of what it might be like to not feel so alone.

He works his way down Swindle's body, tracing his tongue over his chest plate, while his fingers go even lower, teasing along the rim of Swindle's valve. Swindle shudders, his engine revving, and Rodimus feels a fresh gush of lubricant, easing the slide of his fingers against the outer mesh.

It's at this point that Rodimus decides to skip to the main event, 'cause it really has been way too long since he's gotten his mouth on a valve. He scoots down and spreads the mesh apart with his fingers, taking a moment to admire the hardware. Swindle's node is glowing the same shade of purple as his optics, as are the biolights lining the rim of his valve. Nothing fancy, but Rodimus has never cared about stuff like that. He finally dips his tongue inside, not needing to feign his eagerness even a little. Primus, he's missed this. The sweet, musky taste of lubricant; the tingle of charge in his mouth. It's been _centuries_.

Swindle arches into his mouth with a long, helpless moan, and it takes all of Rodimus' willpower to keep his own panel closed. He needs to remind himself that this isn't about getting off. No matter how much it charges him up to make another bot writhe under his tongue.

"R-Rodimus," Swindle moans, his vocalizer already glitching with charge. "That feels - oh!" His hands scramble for purchase on the rocky ground. "I think I'm gonna-"

It's only natural that he wouldn't last long. Self-servicing isn't anything as intense as being stimmed by a partner. Rodimus hums in approval and latches his mouth onto Swindle's node, suckling, then slips a finger into the slick heat of his valve.

Swindle hurtles into overload with a cry, his entire frame crackling with charge.

Rodimus moves his mouth away from Swindle's node once the charge has run its course, removes his finger, and replaces it with his tongue. Very gently, he laps up the lubricant from Swindle's overload, savoring the flavor. Swindle lets out a low, staticky moan as he overloads a second time.

"Wow," Swindle murmurs dreamily, once Rodimus pulls away. "That was - _wow_."

Rodimus can't help but grin at the praise. He knows he's good at eating valve, but outside validation is always welcome. He maneuvers his body so that he can give Swindle a kiss. Makes it as tender and sweet as he knows how. When Rodimus pulls back, Swindle's expression is one of helpless devastation. Like he's been pierced right through the spark.

That's another thing self-servicing can't prepare you for: overloading with a partner has a tendency to make even the most stoic mech emotional. For a bot like Swindle, it must be downright terrifying.

This is the part that Rodimus has really been waiting for. He wraps himself as best he can around Swindle's far bulkier frame, stroking soothingly over his plating. Swindle stiffens at first, but soon melts into the embrace with a shuddering sigh. His engine purrs with contentment.

After a few kliks have passed, Swindle asks, "Autobots really do this all the time?"

"Not all the time," says Rodimus. "And only with bots that we trust." He traces a finger over Swindle's chest plate. "Is this your first?"

"No," Swindle says, a little defensively. Rodimus figures that he's still too blissed out to put his usual mask back on. "I mean, there were a couple of times, before the war. But then the fighting started and - and I guess it just took a back seat to everything else."

'Everything else' being making as much profit from the war as possible, Rodimus guesses.

"Well, the war's over now." He pushes himself upright. "We should head back."

"Yeah..." says Swindle, not sounding remotely enthused by the prospect.

Rodimus smiles slyly. "We can do this again, any time you like."

Swindle's expression visibly brightens at that. "Help me up, kid."

Rodimus obliges him. Once they're both back on their feet, he says, "You know, I've also been in this war since the beginning."

"I know," says Swindle. "I operated out of Nyon, back when Zeta was in charge." He smiles in a way that's wholly manufactured; the mask is finally back in place. "I know you're not actually a kid anymore. But can you really blame me for indulging in a bit of nostalgia?"

Rodimus smiles back. "You can call me whatever you like, so long as I can call you 'Swinds'."

"It's a deal," says Swindle. And Rodimus thinks that maybe his smile becomes just a tiny bit more sincere.

* * *

"You're getting awfully cozy with Swindle," says Bluestreak - wait, no, Silverstreak - after the third time Rodimus and Swindle come back together. "I know you said we ought to give him a chance, but it looks to me like you're giving him a whole lot more than just that."

"I have a plan," Rodimus replies, trying not to sound defensive. Because he suddenly realizes that he doesn't really have a plan. 'Frag Swindle into maybe sort of liking you' isn't really much to go on, in hindsight.

"If you say so."

A thought occurs to him. "Hey, you like Earth media, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, why don't we set up a movie night? It'll probably help with morale. And I doubt the Decepticons have had the chance to take in the local art." There's suddenly an ache in his spark. It's the same one he always gets when he's reminded of the Lost Light. "It can maybe expand their minds a little, too."

Silverstreak's optics light up. "That's actually a really cool idea!"

Rodimus forces himself to grin. "I'm leaving it up to you. While I set the plan in motion."

Once he figures out what the plan actually is.

* * *

He makes a point of interrupting Swindle's 'repairs' on the Stunticons. Now that Rodimus knows what Swindle's up to, he's actually able to catch Swindle making mental calculations in real-time. Swindle's face will go blank for a nanoklik or two, his optics unfocusing, before he slides into his practiced conmech smile.

Rodimus knows what the calculations are, too:

  1. Swindle's top priority is making himself a combiner.
  2. On the other hand, Rodimus is really, really great at eating valve.
  3. Going off to have Rodimus eat his valve will delay Swindle getting a combiner.
  4. But Rodimus doesn't know that Swindle is doing anything besides repairing his 'brothers'.
  5. Rodimus is fully aware that Swindle is selfish and will put his own gratification ahead of repairing his 'brothers'.
  6. Therefore, protesting too strongly will make Rodimus suspicious.
  7. Conclusion: let Rodimus eat his valve.



Swindle hasn't turned him down a single time.

It's actually really impressive, though, knowing ahead of time what Swindle is working towards. No fancy laboratory; no Enigma of Combination. Just a handful of salvaged tools out in the middle of nowhere, and Swindle is building himself a proper, functional combiner. Rodimus knows slag about sciency stuff, but he knows brilliance when he sees it.

Rodimus asks him about it, one time, when they're curled up together in their usual spot. Careful not to let on that he knows about Menasor. "I've seen how good you are at repairing bots. At building things. You could probably make plenty of money if you went straight."

At first, Swindle plays dumb. "I don't know what you're implying, kid."

Rodimus chuckles at his audacity. "You have a reputation, Swinds."

Swindle sighs theatrically. "Well, being good at something didn't used to mean slag. I was built back when knock-offs couldn't aspire too high above their station, so just doing what I was good at already made me a target. Figured I had nothing to lose by going all-in on the black market. And it turned out I was damn good at _that_ , too." He runs a hand idly over Rodimus' spoiler. "I provide a service; I get things done. That's more than I can say for most bots."

"And I bet the money helps."

Swindle stiffens, just slightly. "You got a problem with that?"

Rodimus snorts. "A good buddy of mine made his fortune by murdering a slagton of people. So I'd be kind of a hypocrite if I did."

"...I know this buddy of yours?"

"Probably." Rodimus leans in and kisses Swindle, letting his hand drop down to Swindle's still-exposed valve. He breaks the kiss after half a kilk, saying, "I started this knowing exactly who you are, Swinds. And I like you that way." He thumbs over Swindle's node for emphasis, earning him a moan.

He makes Swindle overload for the third time that day, which cuts the conversation short.

* * *

Swindle is clearly not enthused by the prospect of movie nights, but he's too caught up in the con to actually voice his objections. He has to keep his mark happy, after all.

So he ends up agreeing, and most the other Decepticons follow his lead.

Silverstreak has set up a screen and a projector, and picked out something that he says will 'appeal to both factions'.

Rodimus sits next to Swindle and leans against him, noting how the other mech stiffens, before apparently forcing himself to relax. Rodimus doesn't blame him, honestly; he can feel the gazes of the other Decepticons on them, and it's enough to put Rodimus on edge as well. But Swindle is the one who set up this 'alliance' on the pretext that the war is over and factions no longer matter. As such, the Decepticon rules against fraternization shouldn't matter, either.

If Swindle can expect Autobots to support the rescue efforts of a Stunticon, then Rodimus can expect Swindle to handle a bare minimum of PDA. It's not like the other Decepticons don't already suspect they're fragging.

And if that makes things more difficult for Swindle? Well, that's not Rodimus' problem.

Rodimus can see why Silverstreak had said this particular movie might have broad appeal, though. It's all about a group of humans dealing with what looks an awful lot like Functionism. Even if it's not a one-to-one analogue. The humans in the movie aren't sorted by function so much as appearance, for one thing, which seems even dumber than Functionism. And they also think that wider humans are bad? He's seen it pop up in other human media, before, without as much emphasis. Rodimus can't really wrap his head around it.

But the songs are super catchy, and the romance is cute. Rodimus finds his mood improving as he watches.

What he doesn't expect is a full-blown philosophical discussion after the movie's done.

"It's completely unrealistic," says Dead End. "You can't overturn a system of oppression through dancing and singing."

"It's _fictional_ , you idiot," says Drag Strip. "Of course it's not realistic!"

"I liked the songs!" Wildrider shouts. "I could totally tear it up to those jams!"

Dead End huffs, ignoring Wildrider. "So what if it's fictional? You really expect me to believe that they'd segregate themselves on the basis of resistance to solar radiation? With the less resistant coming out on top? How am I supposed to take anything seriously with a premise that absurd?"

Silverstreak resets his vocalizer. "That actually happened, though. There are a whole bunch of human societies that created caste systems based around the relative melanin content of their skin."

Mirage goggles at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," says Silverstreak. "It was actually happening in this nation state less than a century ago. And, even though it's no longer _officially_ enforced, humans with more melanin still face a lot of social obstacles that the low-melanin humans don't."

Mirage groans. "Primus, humans are weird. I cannot wait to get off this stupid planet."

Swindle snorts. "There's nothing weird about making hierarchies based on arbitrary slag. You think the way we did it on Cybertron was any less stupid? The folks with the power and resources will always come up with some dumb reason why they're _entitled_ to stay at the top of the heap. That's true for mechanoids as much as fleshlings."

"You have a point, Swindle," says Dead End. "But this only makes the movie _more_ ridiculous. We're presumably expected to take its happy ending at face value. Yet we know that, in reality, it would give way to an equally absurd and unjust manner of distributing power."

"That's why you gotta learn to operate between the cracks," says Swindle, sagely. "Because the cracks in the system never really change."

"You guys are taking this way too fragging seriously," says Drag Strip.

Dead End rolls his optics. "You have no business accusing anybody else of taking things too seriously."

" _You can't stop the beat~_ " sings Wildrider.

Rodimus stands up, feeling alienated from the conversation. He can also see that the Stunticons are heading towards a full-blown kerfuffle, which means Motormaster is inevitably going to make an appearance. The Stunticon leader isn't gentle with his subordinates, and seeing the way he resolves their quarrels always makes Rodimus uncomfortable. Motormaster hadn't actually joined them for the movie - no surprises there - but he's definitely lurking somewhere nearby.

Swindle catches his optics, and Rodimus takes his meaning.

They meet an hour later at the usual spot.

* * *

Something's different, this time.

Normally, Swindle's more than happy to let Rodimus take the lead, and he's always kept his touches above Rodimus' panel. But this time, he all but tackles Rodimus to the ground.

It takes all of Rodimus' self-control to keep his combat protocols from activating. It's only when Swindle starts kissing him that he stops getting alerts on his HUD.

"Want your spike," Swindle murmurs against Rodimus' mouth. "I can't stop thinking about it."

Panic shoots through Rodimus' processor. "I thought you said that you weren't down to interface."

"A bot can't change his mind?" Swindle grinds their closed panels together, shuddering. 

Rodimus doesn't answer immediately, distracting Swindle by teasing over his transformation seams.

Sexual interfacing doesn't involve the memory banks of a bot's processor, the way hardlining does. Just real-time sensory data. But it's also emotionally intense in a way that hardlining isn't.

Rodimus has only ever interfaced once, with Drift, and it left him a nervous wreck for _days_. Drift had insisted that this was all part of what made interfacing so special. That it provided 'spiritual catharsis'. But Rodimus hadn't been willing to try it again.

That's probably a big part of why Drift had decided that they weren't cut out to be sparkmates.

He pushes that thought aside, though he can do nothing about its accompanying surge of sadness. Swindle notices the shift in his mood, as any good conmech would.

"You okay, kid?"

And Rodimus knows that Swindle doesn't _actually_ care. But it's nice, just then, to pretend that he does.

So Rodimus kisses him, hard and filthy, palming over the wheels on Swindle's shoulders. As always, that earns him a rev of appreciation. He transforms his panel away and allows his spike to pressurize.

"You want me inside you?" he asks, breaking the kiss.

"Yeah," says Swindle, and pulls back to get a good look at Rodimus' spike. His optics glow with hunger as he transforms his own panel away, revealing a valve that's already dripping lubricant.

Rodimus huffs out a strained laugh. "Then we'd better switch positions, because you're heavier than you look."

Swindle obliges him immediately, climbing off of Rodimus and lying on his back. "We can't all be pretty little sports cars," he says, spreading his legs in a clear invitation. "Now get the hell over here."

Rodimus moves between Swindle's legs, his spike pressing into the outer mesh of Swindle's valve. He stays there for a few nanokliks, frozen, his fans roaring in his audio receptors.

"Slag, kid, are you trying to kill me?" Swindle asks, mistaking Rodimus' hesitation for teasing. "I'm not usually one for begging, but _damn_ if you don't make me wanna - _hhng_."

Rodimus closes his optics and presses in, all in one stroke. He lets out a low moan at the feeling of slick heat enveloping him - of charged-up nodes sliding against his aching contact points.

Then the interface connection activates, and Rodimus can feel the phantom stretch of sensitive valve walls. The relief of finally being _filled_.

Swindle doesn't need to tell him to go harder, or deeper; Rodimus can _feel_ it. He pulls out, almost completely, before thrusting back in, hitting the cluster of nodes right at the top of Swindle's valve. Pleasure shivers through his frame as he releases his first gush of transfluid, and Swindle whimpers with the sudden increase in conductivity.

The connection deepens, and it becomes harder to distinguish where Rodimus' sensations end and Swindle's begin.

Rodimus keeps the pace slow but thorough. Tries to drown himself in the ever-deepening feedback loop of pleasure. But, even as his frame is singing with charge, he becomes acutely aware of just how alone he feels. Of how much he misses the Lost Light and Team Rodimus.

He speeds up his thrusts in an effort to chase the feelings away. And succeeds, temporarily, as overload sweeps through him, his spike spilling the last of his transfluid reserves into Swindle's valve. Swindle cries out and wraps his legs around Rodimus in some futile attempt to get his spike even deeper. The charge arcs between them, prolonged and intensified by the hyperconductivity of Rodimus' transfluid.

There are three glorious kliks of nothing but ecstatic euphoria.

But then, as the charge finally ebbs away, the despair rushes in to take its place. 

Swindle wraps his arms around Rodimus. Pulls him in for a kiss. And Rodimus just - _can't_. His spike depressurizes as he pulls away, trembling.

"Rodimus," Swindle murmurs, plaintive. His optics are streaming sparks.

Rodimus stands, unsteady on his feet, suddenly unable to look at the Decepticon -- at the achingly sincere expression on his face. At the mess between his legs. Rodimus is pretty sure he'll purge his tanks if he does. 

"Please don't go," Swindle begs.

Rodimus can't get away fast enough.

* * *

They don't have washracks at the construction site, so Rodimus has to resort to an abandoned human gas station about two hundred kilometers away. It's not that long a drive, especially pushing speeds that no human-operated vehicle could ever manage, but Rodimus is still completely exhausted when he arrives. Interfacing must be way more energy-intensive than he ever realized.

He parks in vehicle mode for a few hours of recharge before rinsing himself off with some detergent and a hose. It's not nearly as good as the solvent available on Omega Supreme, but it manages to wash off Swindle's paint. Which is enough to make Rodimus feel a little less nauseous.

He's running low on energon, so he tries his luck with a fuel dispenser. The station still has fuel reserves, thankfully, though the only kind that's not completely disgusting is the diesel. It reminds him of the low-grade engex that he'd choked down during some of the leaner years of the war.

So, naturally, he deactivates his F.I.M chip and gets completely slagfaced.

* * *

He's tempted to stay at the gas station until the diesel runs out.

He doesn't, of course. Not with the other Autobots facing the wrath of a pissed off and potentially volatile Swindle. But it's a closer call than he'd like to admit.

He's already been gone half a day, which is more than enough time for Swindle to spring his trap early. Rodimus just hopes that Swindle's pragmatism wins out over the humiliation of being left alone and weeping after interfacing for the first time.

When he arrives at the construction site, he's relieved to find that nothing drastic seems to have changed.

He's ambushed by a visibly agitated Red Alert before he has the chance to get too close to the ship. But Red Alert is almost always visibly agitated, so Rodimus tries not to jump to conclusions.

"The Decepticons are going to betray us," says Red Alert. "They've been meeting in private - shooting us these _looks_. And Swindle's been acting strange for the last few hours."

"Well, yeah," says Rodimus. "Of course they are."

Red Alert looks taken-aback, probably because he's not used to people taking his paranoia seriously. "So, what's the plan?" he asks.

Rodimus opens his mouth. Closes it. He doesn't have an answer.

"Are we going to steal the ship before they have the chance?"

"No," says Rodimus, with sudden certainty. "The ship doesn't matter." He claps Red Alert on the shoulder. "In fact, you and others should go back to base."

Red Alert narrows his optics. "I don't follow. Wasn't the whole point of this exercise to get off of this planet?"

Rodimus sighs. "It was."

"So - why does the ship no longer matter?"

Rodimus experiences a wave vertigo as the scale of what he knows hits him all at once.

He has the ability to change the future - to make all his dreams come true - and he's been spending his time trying to get back at _Swindle_. What the hell is _wrong_ with him?

"Rodimus?" prompts Red Alert.

Rodimus forces himself to answer. "I've had some time to think, is all, and I realize now that we were being too impatient. Optimus'll come to his senses, like he always does, and then Omega will take us anywhere we need to go." He straightens, gaining confidence. "The war is over, right? We can afford to let a bunch of ragtag Decepticons have one minor victory if it means we avoid a pointless fight. Let them go out into space and spend the rest of their lives running from the D.J.D, if that's really what they want."

Red Alert frowns, eyeing Rodimus with obvious suspicion. "And it didn't occur to you to discuss this with us earlier?" He scoffs. "Too busy fraternizing with the enemy, I guess."

Rodimus watches in dumbfounded shame as Red Alert head off to find the others, before finally managing, "Wait. I'll come with. It'll go down better, coming from me."

He doesn't actually know if that's true, anymore. But he knows it's his responsibility, regardless.

* * *

The others agree to leave the construction site, though Rodimus suspects that most of them won't go back to the Autobot base. Not until Optimus is back in charge, at any rate.

Rodimus goes out to the rock formation and comms Swindle, half expecting him to show up with all the Stunticons in tow. But he comes alone.

With a gun.

"Alright," says Swindle, without a hint of his usual affected charm. "You're gonna tell me what you're really playing at, _Hot Rod_ , or else I'll blow your fragging brains out."

Rodimus raises his hands, showing that he's unarmed. "I'm not playing at anything. I'm leaving, and giving you the ship."

Swindle glares at him. "Cut the slag, kid. You think I'm gonna let you play me for a sucker? I _invented_ the goddamn game!"

Rodimus sighs. "It's not like you to lose your cool like this."

"Shut up!" Swindle yells. The hand holding the gun is visibly trembling.

Rodimus steps closer, letting his hands fall to his sides. "I wish I could tell you that there _was_ some big plan. But the truth is? I just wanted to mess with you." It sounds so much worse when he actually says it out loud. Even Getaway had been motivated by more than simple pettiness. "So go ahead and shoot me, if you want. I deserve it."

Swindle keeps his finger on the trigger for a full klik, his optics blazing, before he finally lowers the gun. "Just _go_ ," he says.

There's a sick squirming in Rodimus' tank, and he suddenly wants very badly to - to what? Apologize? Explain himself? He finds himself walking towards Swindle, reaching out to him, but stops cold when he sees the way that Swindle flinches.

Without another word, he transforms and drives away.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully the first in a series. Future!Rodimus wants to change the future for the better, after all. He just arrived in a very emotionally compromised state, and needed some time to come to his senses.


End file.
